


dirty paws

by thalmor



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Dogs, Foreshadowing, Light Angst, Other, Pre-Canon, Romantic Dreams, light stuff just playing with the trope of young royals dreaming of love and a happy future, naemon is just a kid who wants to be loved AHGFHGHG, not mentioned but as always it's there, prince naemon has a guard dog named peli-el, prince naemon is a dog person, trans prince naemon, troubled child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 15:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalmor/pseuds/thalmor
Summary: with his beloved guard dog at his side, a young prince naemon is torn between romanticized dreams of his future and a cold reality
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	dirty paws

**Author's Note:**

> named after the song by of monsters and men

It was a wonderful day in the lush gardens of Alinor, and the brightness of its sunlight shone and reflected from the prancing of one of the royal hounds, trusted from years of training to not soil the pristine and groomed flora, instead basking in the crisp midday beauty. The collar nestled in her neck almost glimmered. At the approach of a certain Altmer prince, she stopped, tongue panting and ears alert to greet him, matching the sharp attention of the less canine guards that made up the flank of the mer's presently small entourage.

"Is Peli-el able to come along?" His young voice inquired, looking on fondly at the dog's poise and precious, attentive gaze.  


The dog's handler had bowed at his arrival and gave another small bow as they answered. "Yes, Your Highness. She is eager for recreation." That made two of them.  


The young elf hoped to hear that. He turned back the way he came, but not before pausing in his step and calling.  


"Peli-el," Naemon turned in the direction of his loyal dog, peering past the pink and red trees as she approached. She trotted with her head and curled tail high with pride, an inherent dignity granted to her as a finely-bred Royal Phynastean Dog. With a slight smile, the young Prince bent down and took her into a hug. She returned the affection in a modest lick to the nose as the boy hid a giggle. He liked the way she listened, liked the way she would never hurt him.  


"Must she come along?" The Vicereeve's voice was gentle, as always for the Prince, yet the scowl in his voice suggested enough of his opinion of the animal. He kept his distance and eyed her with weary. Peli-el returned the stare, watching Pelidil's position with guarding intent, lips tilted in anticipation of a warning growl. "I don't like the way she looks at me."  


Naemon frowned. "I think she is fine." In truth, he wasn't sure she was, in acknowledgement of her history of aggression towards his assistant, but he told himself otherwise anyways. They were both such fixtures in his life. Pelidil felt much like a father to him, when his father was much too busy to pay him mind, as was his mother. "I won't let her attack you."  


Peli-el tended to follow his command, as she was trained. Peli-el loved him, as he loved her.  


With that, the young royal stood up, a hand held out to gesture Peli-el to follow.  


From the gates of the Royal Garden they strolled till the pristine streets of their sect of the city replaced with polished stepping stones up the gentle cliffs of Alinor's mountain. Pelidil had a pack slung across his chest, kept with flasks and other such replenishments for the hike, hung down to his thigh. Naemon enjoyed their walks. His schedule hardly let him breathe but Pelidil twisted and pulled many a string to grant Naemon any breaks he needed. That was already enough, where they used their time to read and other such activities. On their strolls in particular, however, he was almost guaranteed time left to himself, without any assistants _(except Pelidil)_ nor guards _(except Peli-el)_ breathing down his neck, save for the occasional patrol. Fresh air in more ways than one. Mostly.  


"I hope the mer I am married to likes Peli-el." The man he was speaking to hung behind Naemon and his dog on the trail, and Naemon turned his head slightly to eye him. The Vicereeve seemed to be in thought before he looked up to meet the younger elf's eyes, arms behind his back. His ears had a subtle twitch as Naemon continued, "Do you think they will?"  


"You have a few years," The Vicereeve hesitated. True, as Naemon was just a couple years shy of an hour's quarter. "What makes you think of that?" Only when a mer is of age and thus developed in intellect and character can the actual matchmaking process be more thoroughly started. His involvement, as with much of praxis, was little, yet he knew little else but faith in what was expected of him.  


One day he would simply be arranged to marry the love of his life. That's what he read in his books in and out of his studies, saw in the teachings of blessed Mara, and he resolved not to think about anything else. Tradition often left little choice, like that.  


"I..." The young elf drifted off. Pelidil always urged him to speak with confidence. Like a king. He continued, struggled to force words from his mind. "I just hope they are..." Proper. The right thing to say. " _Befitting._ "  


Naemon thought of his books, of the songs and stories and poems, of love and family. He wondered what it was like. They never touched upon when a partner is not so befitting, and the thought scared him, even in the shadow and preparations of the responsibility that awaited him as ruler. So much more to be concerned over, he _knew_ , but to be alone for centuries…  


At least he had Peli-el.

"Planning will be started in a couple of years, and planned it will be. There are Sapiarchs trained in this matter alone."  


Prince Naemon wouldn't like his soon-to-be spouse very much if they didn't like his dog. "Will they like Peli-el?"  


The older mer smiled a laugh, probably at the triviality of the concern. Naemon wished it was a mere jest. "There are aspects far more crucial than the man or woman's opinion on one of the royal guard dogs."  


Pelidil always spoke so personally to him compared to most others. He supposed it was apropos to the role in his life, and in a way he thought he liked it. He knew Naemon for who he was, instead of just a title. It felt that way, at least.  


The walk came into a brief interlude at one of the higher vistas, where they stopped at an ornate marble bench nested in dragon ivy vines and flowers to replenish their energy. To his right sat Peli-el, black nose shivering as she took in the scents of light breeze, and to his left, Pelidil. Both watched him.  


Still, Naemon thought. He could hardly stop himself from bringing it up again. "What happens if my partner doesn't like Peli-el?" His lips pursed as he absently looked over the view from the top of the gradual incline. The trees below them looked so small, as did the ships in the harbor.  


The Vicereeve looked away from him briefly before looking again, blinking. "Your Highness." He trailed off, but Naemon didn't bother to use the opportunity to interject. His eyes watered and he couldn't understand why. Pelidil bent down slightly, and with a gloved hand he plucked a pink flower between his fingers, took an open palm from Naemon to which the Prince stiffened, and placed the petals in the softer ridges of his hand.  


"You are a Prince, and soon, a King. _They_ will find you a mer that fits your standing. For now, you prepare for that standing. You needn't worry."  


Naemon looked at the flower for a few seconds before closing his palm onto it and tucking his hands into his lap, taking them away from the reeve and his grasp. _What about a mer that fits me?_  


"If they don't like Peli-el, will anyone care?" Pelidil seemed bewildered, and he neglected to hide it in the furrow of his brow. Peli-el, as if on cue, stood up from where she sat to lean against Naemon's knees protectively, ears flat to her head as she stayed. There was no cause for alarm, but perhaps she sensed his distress. He himself wasn't even sure the cause, but she, ever loyal, didn't need to understand. He placed the hand free of the now-crumpled flower on the fur of her wide head, rubbing the tips of his fingers across the pale fur. "I'm the Prince, no? They should listen to me."  


"You _are_ the Prince. Rest assured that no one shall ever forget that, if they know what's good for them. But would you like an arrangement cancelled over the hound?" Perhaps he did not intend for it, but his voice was blunt, incredulous. Pelidil was just like that. Maybe Naemon _was_ being foolish.  


"No…" _Maybe_? "Could I do that?"  


His advisor had to think about it for a moment. "Sometimes these preparations are beyond the beckoning of a whim. Sometimes, things can be far more important. It is something all respectable Altmer must accept, most of all a future ruler."  


_Of course. But..._  


"If they don't like Peli-el…"  


Pelidil followed the youth's words and continued them for him. "If they don't like your… dog, then it might just be your duty to look past it and be their husband regardless."  


Duties, responsibilities, sacrifices. They never seemed to end. In every second it felt like the words of love in his stories danced away from him. If they didn't love Peli-el he wasn't sure what he would do. He supposed he would have no choice but to love them anyways. If they didn't love _him_...  


Naemon felt nauseous, but the Vicereeve spoke even more, keeping the blue of his gaze steady on Naemon. "There are many things beyond what, or _who_ , they may love." A part of him wished Pelidil would stop. Speaking, looking, everything.  


"Okay," Naemon yielded in a quiet voice. His mind felt fuzzy, his heart clenching, and he struggled to shove it down. There felt like nothing more to say. There wasn't any argument against the Vicereeve, not that there was ever a chance at winning it anyways. Pelidil always pushed and pushed until Naemon felt the same way as he. Right now, he wasn't so sure that was the case, but the older mer didn't need to know that.

"For now, you must focus on your own studies and preparation. For now, _I_ am here for you."  


Naemon had enough of the topic aloud, enough of the lecturing. As he opened his hand at last, to the grass the crushed flower fell. Amidst the blanket of blossom petals from the surrounding trees, it became lost.  


The walk back was quiet. Dusk approached, from the way the sky turned a sort of peach, and the bright stars of night began to peek through. Peli-el walked at his side, and Pelidil once more at the other, keeping pace and occasionally glancing at Naemon at beck and call.  


Naemon had no requests. Instead, he stayed in his own head, filling it with more stories and more fantasies. This time, they were his own, of a mer who loved Peli-el, and him, too.  


Perhaps, if he wished hard enough, they would be the love that the stars sanctioned for him in time. In time. From beside him, Pelidil placed a hand on his shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> GRRRRRRR BARK BARK. WOOF


End file.
